Homeostasis
by Paradigm of Writing
Summary: He was too far gone in that depressing and desperate bottle of brown and black sludge liquor to even stand. She tried to get near, couldn't help him. That poor emerald clad plumber was lost. However, on the night of New Year's Eve, perhaps something could be tweaked, that in fact, Luigi could be saved. (1st Overall in Shana Hager's Auld Lang Syne Contest)
1. Chapter 1: Blurred Focus

**Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with a new piece of mine called Homeostasis- probably a quick four parter for the contest I'm in currently, called the Auld Lang Syne contest hosted by the one and only Shana Hager. I have never written a multi-chaptered piece for a contest before, but given that my current one-shot record is not holding up that well in the contests, I've decided to take a gander and see how far I get. I'll probably try to update every two days since this story needs to be finished by the 16th of this month, so yikes. Here we are guys, Chapter 1: Blurred Focus.**

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The bottle looks strange in his hand. His vision is beyond foggy at this point, so he cannot muster the strength to try and spell out the words plastered on the label. Something about old folk and apple cider. " _Pah,_ " he thinks silently, " _When the world focuses solely on the stupid labels and not the actual people, we then have a problem_."

He takes another swig, knowing it isn't good for his health, but he doesn't give a shit because its his life and no one else's. He isn't hurting anyone else. A low cough disrupts his happy drinking schedule, and now he is humped over the cushioned seat leaning over the balcony, puking all that has been washed down into his system. One hurl after another. He loses count at around thirty, knowing that with the New Year coming up around the corner for him, he'll probably pass out and miss the celebration. He doesn't care. That path vanished a long time ago.

Slumping down to the concrete ground, his eyes clear only a little to make out the bustling and explosive Smash Mansion losing their minds over the new 2016 that'll usher in an explosive era of lord knows what and he's so far gone in a stinking slump of liquor to care. Once revered as one of the strongest Smashers, Luigi Pastour now sits against the wall and wonders where everything went wrong.

His eyes flicker slowly, but surely over the flaxen haired lady, twirling and enjoying the life of party, not giving a worry to anyone else. Luigi's veins burn at the sight of her, watching that sky blue diamond dress spin in a billowing cloud, to fall back down. How he messed up so much, watching that damn skirt dance and snatch his heart up. " _She's just full of lies_." he contemplates, before turning back over the railing to unsettlingly puke.

This goes on for about a minute, the emerald cloaked plumber losing all that made him human, when even that was barely something to take pride in. There is a presence, but he doesn't care enough to turn around and face whomever wishes to have a consultation with him. That Luigi, the one who'd laugh and banter on died, last year, at the same stupid _stupid_ New Year's Eve celebration of 2015. That was when the diamond dusted girl gave him a taste of the wild side of humanity, only to then drop him into a hole he couldn't climb out of.

Luigi feels empty now, and he can understand the aching in his soul before turning around to see the spawn of the devil staring worriedly at him. He gives a low screech, before chucking the bottle at her. She ducks, the perfectionist look not even taking one nosedive. What is with her and that awful witchcraft? How can she go around the world knowing she ruined someone's life.

"Go away," he hisses. "Don't you see that you're not wanted here?"

"I'm wanted wherever I go." she replies. Rosalina, queen of the star studded galaxies above, gives a light laugh, throwing her hair behind her back.

"You ruined me." Luigi snarls.

"You ruined yourself."

"I highly doubt that."

"You should join the party." Rosalina urges, sitting next to him.

Luigi shudders, scowls, screams, then does a mix of all three before scooting back on all fours away from the galaxy lady and her accursed diamond dresses and pink lipstick smudged hair bows. He cannot be a part of this again. She'd kill him. She'd kill him. Rosalina shakes her head in dismay, seeing this plumber was too far gone for her actual delicate help to be of any use. Perhaps there'd be another soul to help bring Luigi out of the slump, she had no idea.

He watches her go, before patting down his body, knowing that he lost his bottle. He chucked it halfway across the room at her, but having forgotten the fact that they all trained in the art of battle, something as simple as a thrown bottle was not going to be enough to deter a man from pursuing their aspirations. He doesn't know what she wanted out of trying to talk to him. It failed. Simple as that.

Luigi looks up at the pitch black sky and wishes it could consume him.

Perhaps he could be returned to his true state of homeostasis, where his body would become normal again.

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 **There we are you guys, Chapter 1! Yeah, I know. This is SUPER depressing, but it'll get better with each chapter. I have four characters in this story- and we know that two are Luigi and Rosalina, which is actually one of my OTP's in the Mario fandom so... maybe we'll see where this can lead us, hmm? Next small drabble chapter shall be #2: Aura Readings. Don't lie and say you don't know who I'm featuring in the next chapter to maybe help Luigi out of his slump. Least he doesn't have his bottle, right? Thanks for reading guys, and see you soon.**

 **~ Paradigm**


	2. Chapter 2: Aura Readings

**This is chapter two of Homeostasis: Aura Readings.**

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Luigi scowls as he longs to have another bottle in his hands, instead taking solace in the potted plants out on the terrace. Laced thoughts jumbled together with pain sprout like fizzled neuron messages in his brain, shutting off quickly as he squeezes his eyes shut and screams at them to stop. _I don't want it._ The flaxen haired maiden giggles, powdered hands to the face. _Silly Luigi. You need it. We all need it._

Why did the dark room hurt so much, and the porcelain tiled sink where he slams his fists against after a day of horrid fighting. How Rosalina would run in after him, kiss him softly on the cheek... she was just toying with his heart. "They are all liars!" Luigi snarls, uprooting the plant out of the pot and chucking it over the railing below. The emerald leaves vanish into the black cloud, and now he regrets it. He threw away his only friend.

A chilling gust of wind blows against his back. A warm pulse ripples against his skin, but he's hesitant to turn, as the action required to stare at hollow eyes with no promise. He snipes a quick glance, and Luigi rolls his eyes, returning to the sterling silver steel terrace rail. "You come with tides and greetings, guardian of aura?" he snickers.

Lucario, the very individual who was being insulted, gently smiled, amber eyes understanding fully. "You- you seem down."

"You don't know the half of it." Luigi mutters, picking out the dirt from his caked fingernails. Grime and dust, scorched a tart brown, oak crumbles and onyx rocks, little leaflet plants with olive green stems... nature is such a wonderful thing in your hands, it sells itself.

"Would you care for an aura reading?"

"To see if I'm good or evil? Why..." the depressed plumber turns, eyes slitting, mustache bristling, face reddening. "You know the answer!" Luigi roars.

Lucario falters to gain his composure. "I was only-"

"Do you not see that I do not require your help?"

The aura master nods, amber eyes now full of disappointment, the understanding has vanished. Luigi watches him go. Attempt two to try and draw Luigi out to the party. Another trial that failed. Who'd be sent next? The Master Hand? The dead version of Tabuu himself? He laughs silently to himself. " _My muses are almost as good as they used to be._ "

A growing thought eats away at Luigi's brain. His grin fades, the smug self taking a step back. _Do you remember when you used to love? When the services from Lucario meant relaxation... how your words weren't bitter. Don't you want that?_

He mimes himself taking another drink. "Yes," he says hoarsely. "I'd like that."

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 **There we are you guys! Chapter 2. Yes, I know. Quick and short, not too momentous. Shows how quick you make Luigi snap. Eventually, he'll turn around... right? Hope you guys liked this brief update, and will see you again on Thursday for Chapter 3: Divine Intervention. Love you all!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	3. Chapter 3: Divine Intervention

**Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with Chapter 3 of Homeostasis; Divine Intervention. We've had Rosalina and Lucario try to cheer up the emerald plumber drowning in a sea of booze and depression. Can the sweet goddess Palutena be of any help? If not... it seems there might be a chance Luigi can't get any help. Enjoy!**

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He wonders why people try to help others. In the end, everyone dies. Prolonging that fate is just beyond stupid. " _My metaphors get better and better, don't they?_ " Luigi thinks darkly, even though he knows he didn't make a metaphor there. The night is cold, dark and chilly, just like his heart. The plaguing comment he made towards Lucario earlier stabs at his heart, painfully and excruciatingly. He wishes to go back and tell him he's sorry, but his legs aren't moving.

He's stuck there, in the same position he has always been on that terrace. Luigi wishes to jump. Feel better in the icy water down below. Squirtle could survive hypothermia. Why couldn't he? He had fire powers, his radioactive flame kept his heart warm and his soul would never die from the freezing temperatures. He _could_ die of a frozen heart.

Anyone who wants to help... he pushes away. His brother, his wife, that stupid blonde princess. He wrongs them all constantly, in a consistent manner. Why would the single leap over the ledge be enough to make people cry wolf, but not his struggle. No one dares approach him there, they all let him sit and cry. So he cries. He releases. Nothing gets done. He is just as far gone as he was five minutes ago.

"The world turns upside down and I'm still standing stock still while everyone else falls to their doom," Luigi hisses to himself, hot breaths hitting the railing, a cloud of steam that smells far too much like whiskey washing over his face. "I am cemented in place, others rudder around in faith and prosperity. Where did that get me? Nowhere! I'm _fighting_ a losing battle here!"

There is a third presence in the night, someone coming to cheer him up. "Here to hurt me?" he croaks, although there is no pain behind his words.

A flash of verdant hair causes him to blink. The goddess of Skyworld. Palutena. _Visiting_ him. She was always taken by the Pit copies or whatever they were. Why was she out here? Palutena does not speak as she drapes a blanket over Luigi's shoulders, to give him some warmth. In his downhill spiral he does not take notice to the aching of his body, blackened muscles that are bruised from abuse that quiver and shake back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. They move again. He's thinking too hard about it.

The blanket is a simple sky blue, and warmth spreads over his back. Palutena dips her head low, turning around. Not even a response from the green capped man. What a monster. " _You're welcome_ Luigi." she sneers. What contempt she had for him... it shocks him too much to be considered human.

She turns, stalking back into the party, emerald hair floating in the snapping wind. Palutena is as holy as she is regal. And... and he desecrated her name for not even giving her the time of day.

That sinister voice reenters his head. " _Don't you remember... the time you were happy? When you thanked others... what a monster. A MONSTER!"_

"Th- thank you." Luigi stutters, wrapping the blanket around his body.

His words don't mean much, she cannot hear him from inside, vocals blocked by glass screening doors and sharp shrills of the wind above. He feels it low, a hearth burning quietly in his heart. He did something right. Something for _someone_ else.

Luigi likes this feeling.

He wants more of it.

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 **There we are guys. I know this story is extremely short, but it's willing. Moves along steadily I hope. So, we have one more chapter! It turns out Palutena actually helped him. She did the one thing Luigi dismissed! Isn't that ironic... Anywho... next chapter is #4: That One Word That Hurts. I realize this is so angsty haha, and it wasn't my intent, but that flaxen haired myth from before will reemerge and see if she can do something to remediate Luigi of his hurt. Thanks for reading guys. Love you all!**

 **~ Paradigm**


	4. Chapter 4: That One Word That Hurts

**Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with the last chapter of Homeostasis, #4: That One Word That Hurts. We are going to see our resolution, one that may be so damn bittersweet and clichéd that I can't help it, but writing broken characters is such a gorgeous thing and I am super excited for the ending of the contest and seeing the placements soon... right Shana? Anyways, enjoy.**

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He forgets how long its been since her first visit. Rosalina has her arms wrapped around his shoulders, head placed softly against his back. Her breathing is shallow, gorgeous flaxen hair flapping silently in the wind. Luigi stares out into the world, feet firmly planted on that stupid terrace. Palutena's blanket was still draped over his shoulders, warming him up from the inside out.

Rosalina stirs, nose nuzzling his spine. He jolts. The feeling is _too_ familiar. "Please... to all holy, don't do that." Luigi wheezes.

"Why not?" she asks slowly, unsure of truly why he is being distant.

Luigi notices that there is no alcohol on his breath anymore, the fuzzy headache is gone, he's no longer seeing mahogany blots and sterling silver lines blockade together, but clear skies in a pitch black night. He's flying, but where his release comes from... he cannot put a finger on it. "You know why..." he mumbles.

"Are you just denying that you love me?" Rosalina questions. She laughs, voice filled with mirth and joy, a sound he used to know so clearly that it was his ringtone... the sound of the doorbell to his room. It slowly wound him up and then broke him. He can't stand it any longer.

"You're delusional." Luigi sneers, throwing her off of him.

Rosalina takes a step back, surprised, but eager. She spins him around, grabbing him by the shoulders. Luigi squirms, he hates being this close to someone he hates. Diamond eyes of sadness and compassion match those filled with cruelty, but he is so blinded that he cannot piece the picture together to determine who has which stare. The fair maiden bites her lip, drawing blood on her pallid skin, droplets to pour down and puddle below. At any other instance, crimson rivers would drive him up a wall, screeching and clawing away on all fours, howling... he turns into a sick dog. She grabs his face, pulling him into a kiss.

It is rough. It is loving. It is forced, but necessary. She squeezes her eyes shut, his wide open in disbelief. When the two break, Rosalina is panting heavily, he is shuddering, shivering, losing all that even makes him function.

"I had to do that." is all she says, as if it can just buy the unspeakable she performed moments earlier.

"You- you swore to me you'd _never_ do that again!" Luigi hisses, face white as a sheet.

She grabs his hand, not caring whatever swears are thrown her way, and Rosalina kisses him again. Luigi is under a full fledged love assault, one he cannot cope with. They break apart, but this time he doesn't leave. He _returns_ it. He kisses her back, and the two have kissed thrice in quick succession before they both realize that this can go on in a different place without forty sets of eyes staring into their heads.

"I- I'm sorry." Rosalina says.

Luigi nearly falls off the terrace. His hands tighten, lips form a wry smile. "You- you're what?"

In two words, the bottle doesn't matter. The cursing and angriness at Lucario and Palutena's compassion dissolves, he is sinking to his knees. He's sobbing, he's feeling the weight lift, the one word that hurts to speak be said... it all floods back to him and Luigi is drawn out.

His homeostasis returned.

Rosalina shuffles her foot awkwardly. "Are you okay? You look as if you've seen a ghost?"

Luigi throws his arms around her, hugging her tight. The imaginary clock in his head drops. "Happy New Year, honey." He calmly observes the wedding ring on his finger, a precious emerald decorated in halcyon glitter being the bond that tightened he and Rosalina's love.

She embraces back, squeezing. "I love you."

He doesn't hesitate. "I love you too."

On the terrace outside Smash Mansion, as 2016 lolls around, Luigi is back in his normal state of homeostasis. His blood is at the right acidity level, his body temperature is an accurate 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit.

Most importantly, so was his heart.

It mended itself.

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 **Well, there we are my fellow folks! I hope the chapter was goo enough and ended on a nice... I guess I could say end. It was a blast writing something somewhat multi-chaptered to facilitate multiple human emotions, and I hope I did a good job portraying the brokenness in such a short word span. Thank you once again Shana for hosting this contest, and I hope all goes well. God bless to you and, let's try and get results out soon, hrm? Have a gorgeous day.**

 **~ Paradigm**


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